


Futures So Bright (The Family is Complicated Remix)

by Moontyger



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: 5 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 10:02:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1600838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moontyger/pseuds/Moontyger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fate is complicated: the smallest things can make a big difference.</p><p>Five Things That Never Happened to Luke Skywalker, the remix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Futures So Bright (The Family is Complicated Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Five Things That Never Happened to Luke Skywalker](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/49526) by Rynne. 
  * In response to a prompt by [Rynne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynne/pseuds/Rynne) in the [remixmadness2014](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/remixmadness2014) collection. 



Years ago, in a past that felt more distant than the mere passage of years could account for, Ben Kenobi used to imagine a second padawan - usually when Anakin had been particularly annoying. Someone quiet, he'd thought, more biddable and less fond of argument. A padawan of his choice, not his former master's, perhaps more inclined to passing their time in the archives rather than reckless flying. Someone not at all like Anakin's son, who was grinning in excitement and waving around his father's lightsaber in a manner nearly as reckless as Anakin's.

Ben shook his head, just slightly, and smiled in the manner that meant he was laughing at himself or maybe at the way his life never turned out the way he expected. It seemed his fate to train Skywalkers.

The day he brought infant Luke to his aunt and uncle, he'd known this day would come. He just hadn't thought it would be so soon. But Luke had been barely six when the Tuskens had attacked the farm. Ben had been too late to save Owen and Beru; he'd barely been in time to save the boy. He'd had no choice but to take him in and raise him as his own.

And now, he'd had to admit Luke was right when he said that leaving him untrained might be more dangerous than training him. If Vader and the Emperor found him, he had to give him at least some chance against them. Even now, Luke felt the Force clearly enough that they might sense it. Better that he learn to go beyond sensing, learn to use it before it (or they) used him.

Watching Luke now, Ben felt simultaneously old and young: old, compared to the youth in front of him, whose energy made his bones ache just watching him. Fourteen seemed so long ago; he could hardly remember what it felt like. And yet, he felt young as well, from the echoes of the past that this moment evoked – a past when he'd taken on the training of a different boy, one close enough to him in age to be more like a younger brother than anything else.

Luke was so like his father. How could he not see it? How could he not _feel_ it, especially now? It went far beyond the physical resemblance; he had his father's affectionate nature as well as his stubborn recklessness. Even what he'd done today, taking up the lightsaber he'd been forbidden, had been something Anakin might have done.

The familiar hum of the weapon was loud in the confines of their small hut; when Luke finally turned it off and looked at Ben, excitement fading to be replaced with a seriousness beyond his years, the silence it left behind almost seemed to echo.

The air itself felt heavy with more than the dry heat of a desert world as Ben spoke. “Good,” he said, nodding at Luke. “That's more like it. You should be serious whenever you draw your weapon. But just waving the lightsaber around isn't enough. You feel the Force; now you must learn to let it guide your hand.”

Ben could only hope it would guide his as well. This apprentice must not turn out like the last. The galaxy – and the Jedi – depended upon it.

* * *

When he heard of the young Commander who shared his name, the one so talented that he'd been promoted at a nearly unheard of age, Darth Vader was furious. How _dare_ they? Did they think he was stupid or just blind? He didn't know who was responsible for this, not yet, but the act felt like deliberate provocation.

As his initial rage faded, he began to plan. He would speak to this Commander Skywalker. And when he did, he would discover the truth. If he was an imposter, he would pay – after he revealed who was behind the scheme. And if he was not? That remained to be seen.

It was easy enough to arrange. When he requested to speak with an Imperial pilot, no one dared question him. Instead they scurried to obey. At times, he found it gratifying. At the moment, however, it was tiresome; the officers treating him so obsequiously were helpful, yes, but their salutes and protocols were keeping him from the man who might be his son. Quite frankly, they were lucky they survived.

By the time Luke arrived, he was wild with impatience. Had Vader still had his own legs rather than these mechanical ones, he'd have been pacing, working out his nervous energy with pointless motion. But moving in this suit was not the same; that easy comfort was denied him and so he sat, to all appearances perfectly in command as he waited for his orders to be obeyed.

As soon as he saw Commander Skywalker, as soon as he _felt_ him, he knew, and all that impatience became cold rage.

Methodically, he began to question him. Why had he needed a scholarship to attend the Academy? Why had his uncle not supported his ambitions: was he not loyal to the Empire? Why had Luke wanted to be a pilot? Vader hurled the questions like stones: words used as weapons to break the wall of secrecy behind which his son's existence had been shielded.

He felt his son's fear, but he did nothing to ease it. There was nothing particularly unusual about it, after all; it never occurred to Vader that sons should not fear their fathers. Everyone felt this way around him; after awhile, he had nearly ceased to notice it. It was just background noise, a distraction, and he had little tolerance for distractions.

Once the basic facts of Luke's upbringing had been established, he turned his questions toward the subject he really wanted to discuss.

“Tell me about your parents.” 

“My parents?” Luke looked confused, no doubt wondering why he asked. But he answered, of course – he had no right to refuse. “I don't know anything about my mother. I don't know if my aunt and uncle even knew who she was. They knew my father, though. He was a navigator on a spice freighter. But he died when I was just a baby. They're both dead.” 

“A navigator on a spice freighter,” Vader repeated. The anger was so strong it nearly choked him. _This_ was what Owen Lars dared tell his son about him? This transparent and insulting lie?

“But you didn't want to follow in his footsteps. Or become a farmer like your uncle?”

Luke shook his head. “No, Lord Vader. I wanted to be a pilot, not just a navigator. And I never wanted to be a farmer.”

Vader nodded. Of course he hadn't. His son would never lack ambition. “You've done quite well to be promoted so young, particularly considering your background. You have a bright future here.” Not that that was particularly surprising either. Vader would have been disappointed otherwise. But then, a son who'd stayed on Tatooine or one who had done poorly might never have come to his attention.

Luke thanked him for the compliment, but he ignored it. Such sentiments were unimportant.

Vader had come here unsure of both what he would find and what he would do once he knew. Would he tell Commander Skywalker the truth, whatever that might be? He'd been undecided. Perhaps it would be better to keep their secret and merely watch, to guide his son's career from behind the scenes rather than more overtly.

Now that he'd spoken to him, however, and learned that he had a son he could be proud of (and heard the lies they'd told that son about him), there was no doubt in his mind. This situation could not be allowed to continue.

“Your guardians lied to you, Commander. Your father was no navigator.”

As he looked at his son's questioning face, Vader felt the future open before him, possibilities he'd thought long since dead and gone suddenly alive, sparkling like stars. The future of this Empire, the Empire he had helped to create with his master, was about to change.

“I shall tell you the truth that they kept from you. And then, Commander Skywalker, you'll see that your future is brighter than you ever imagined.”

* * *

Luke Organa was beginning to think he had made a mistake. 

His father had tried to prepare him for what it would be like to be on Coruscant as the new Senator for Alderaan. He'd told him he'd be regarded with suspicion. He'd even warned him about the whispers that were somehow just loud enough to be heard, but not so loud that Luke could do anything about them.

Luke had thought he was prepared, but it was harder than he'd expected. Only his years of experience with being in the public eye as part of the royal family let him keep his back straight and his eyes level, proceeding as though he had somehow not noticed the hostility of his reception. Though how anyone could not have noticed was beyond him; even if he gave no outward sign, it was so apparent that he felt it like a weight hung around his neck, making every action take far more effort than it should as he pushed against it.

It didn't stop him, of course. He was here to do what he could for the people of the Empire. The disapproval of those who stood in his way wouldn't stop him.

The Emperor and Vader were another matter. Luke's father had warned him to beware of them, but he'd said nothing that might explain the level of their interest. From the moment he took his oath as a Senator, they were watching. Luke had expected that, too – Alderaan was known for its resistance. Naturally they would watch him, waiting for him to make a mistake and prove all their suspicions of the Organa family's involvement with the Rebellion correct.

But he hadn't expected the intensity of their scrutiny, nor Vader's obvious rage at his presence: rage that led him to storm from the room after one look. Luke had been bewildered by it. He was just a junior Senator and he knew he'd gotten the oath of office correct. What could he have done that was so wrong?

He had expected to stay on Coruscant longer, but after the strange behavior of the leaders of the Empire, he instead headed home as soon as the Senate session was concluded. Luke didn't understand, but he knew his father would. As he had all his life, Luke trusted that Bail Organa's wisdom would both illuminate and guide him, helping him see what he should do.

He hated to run home like this, to come home in need rather than triumph. But this was too important to take chances. If Luke had somehow made a mistake, he wouldn't be the only one to suffer, and that was the one thing he couldn't stand. He was more rash than Bail; he took risks when his father urged caution. But when it came to protecting others, Luke was every bit his father's son.

He hadn't, however, expected that he'd be followed. Why would he? Everyone knew where he lived and this journey was no secret mission. For once, Luke had nothing to hide. And even if he had somehow expected it - even in his darkest imaginings and nightmares - he'd never thought that Darth Vader would come himself. Dealing with a mere junior Senator had to be far beneath someone like Vader. But expecting it or not, Luke had barely had a chance to speak to his father before Vader swept in, his long cape billowing behind him ominously. 

The sight of the Imperial Lord his family so hated in their home on Alderaan almost didn't seem real and Vader's words didn't help that impression. “Bail Organa. You know why I am here.”

Luke felt frozen, but though he knew his father must be just as afraid, it didn't show. “On the contrary. If you had told me you were coming, I'd have had a proper reception prepared.”

“I'm sure you would have. But it would have availed you nothing. I've come for my son and I am not leaving without him.”

 _What?_ Despite his shock, Luke spoke, though he heard his own voice as though it came from very far away. “ _Your_ son? What are you talking about? You're not my father!”

“This man you have called father is nothing but a kidnapper.” Vader's mechanical voice always hissed, but this was worse, and his fury was almost palpable. It seemed to fill the room: an invisible, odorless gas that made it hard to breathe. Luke had never felt anything like it.

Somehow, Bail still managed to sound calm. Luke had never admired his father as much as he did now. He'd known he was brave, but he'd never realized just how much courage and self-control he really had. “I'm no kidnapper. Luke was entrusted to me.”

“By whom?”

“By someone who tried to save his mother after her husband betrayed and nearly killed her.”

“YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SPEAK OF HER!” The words were a roar, but worse than the sound was the way Bail clutched his throat, visibly struggling to breathe. He looked as though someone were choking him, but there was no one there.

Luke looked at Vader, then at his father. He didn't understand how, but he knew Vader was somehow responsible. _This is all my fault._ “STOP! Leave him alone!”

Bail leaned over, gasping for breath, but at least he was breathing again. Luke walked over to him and put an arm around his shoulders. “Are you all right?” Only when his father nodded did he look up at Vader. “ _This_ is my father. Not by blood, but in every way that counts.”

“Bold words, _Senator Organa_. But if I kill him now, I think you will not be so bold.”

Luke stood and moved to stand in front of Bail. It wasn't much protection – wasn't any protection, really, other than symbolic, and he knew it – but it was all he could do. “What is it you want from me?” 

“Come with me and I'll let him live.”

Luke shook his head. This whole thing still seemed surreal. Somewhere inside a small voice was babbling, _Darth Vader is **my father**_ , but he managed to ignore it. “Do you really think that will change anything?”

“Choose.”

Luke glanced back, but only for a moment. This choice was no choice at all. Avoiding whatever Vader had planned for him wasn't worth his father's life. “I'll go.”

* * *

Padmé had been afraid before. When the Trade Federation blockaded Naboo; when assassins attacked; when she'd been sentenced to die on Geonosis – she'd been so afraid at times that she could barely breathe. But these days, it was different. Fear felt familiar, like an old friend. When you were afraid all the time, it became normal: part of the fabric of your life rather than a tear in the weave.

It took something more to make her really feel it now, to make her conscious of the fear that pervaded every aspect of her life with her twin children. Something like this: Leia injured - only six years old, but lying so pale and still, only the steady motion of her chest evidence that she still lived. For a moment, seeing her there, Padmé felt the old terror: bright and sharp as though it were new and even more intense now that it was her daughter she feared for rather than herself.

She couldn't take her to a doctor. Even a droid couldn't be trusted; the wrong records might be accessed and then connections made, connections that would lead Stormtroopers to their door. She couldn't risk it, not when she knew what that would mean for her children. It was less than she wanted to do, so much less than the life she'd once imagined for them, but bacta and home treatment would have to be enough. 

“She'll be okay, Luke,” Padmé soothed, offering her son the comfort she couldn't give herself. “It's just a concussion; bacta will fix it soon enough.”

“Are you sure?” Luke had been on the verge of tears since she'd found them beneath the tree his sister had fallen out of and that hadn't changed. His face was red with trying not to cry and his blue eyes were wide and terrified. Padmé hated to see it; fear was part of her life, but she wanted to keep it from the twins for as long as she could.

“I'm sure.”

A few years ago, that would have been enough, but six was old enough for Luke to have learned she wasn't infalliable. He sat beside Leia and took her hand, still obviously worried. “I think...” he began hesitantly. “I think I can help.”

Padmé shook her head. “No, Luke. It's too dangerous.”

“Why is it dangerous?” he demanded, in a tone so like his father's that her heart ached just to hear it. “I won't hurt her!”

“I know you won't. But someone might see. We can't attract any attention, remember?”

“No one will see!” Luke countered, with a child's scorn for the cautions of an adult. “It's not the kind of thing you can _see_.”

At times like this, Padmé wished she'd asked Anakin more questions about the Force. She'd seen some things it could do, but she didn't truly understand it. She knew that what she'd told Luke was true, but she didn't know how it worked to put it in terms he'd understand. “It isn't that kind of seeing,” she told him, but she knew it wasn't enough.

And because it wasn't, she wasn't surprised when the first time she had to leave them alone, he ignored her warnings and healed his sister anyway.

To Luke's credit, he didn't try to lie about what he'd done. “This is better,” he insisted, and inwardly, Padmé had to admit that Leia looked much better than she had. The bacta would have worked, but the Force was faster.

He'd disobeyed, but she couldn't be angry with him. This was her fault. If she'd been strong enough to give up her children, they would have been safer. Maybe they could even have been raised by someone who could teach them the things she couldn't. But she'd made her choices and it was too late to change them, even if she'd wanted to. They'd all just have to live with the consequences.

“We'll have to move again,” she told him.

Luke looked shocked enough that she knew he hadn't really believed it was dangerous. “Just because I healed Leia?”

“Yes. Go and start packing your things.” 

Luke hung his head, guilt plain on his small face. “I'm sorry, Mom. I just wanted to help.”

“I know. I wanted to help her, too.” Padmé knelt and hugged him close. Luke buried his face in her shoulder and she held him as long as she dared, though whether it was for her comfort or his, she couldn't truly say. “Don't worry. We'll find somewhere else to stay. Everything will be just fine.”

* * *

Luke didn't spend much time wondering about what might have been. Time, after all, was one thing an Emperor lacked. What little of it he had to spare, he chose to spend on something other than idle fancies.

The future was another matter. Wallowing in the past was a childish indulgence, but thinking about the future was a necessity. It went beyond the lack of privacy; nearly everything he did made a difference, ripples spreading farther than he could see. He couldn't make choices based on a mere whim; the consequences could be too dire.

He leaned back in the chair in his private office and stared at the ring he held, turning it around and around in his hand, watching the way the light through the window at his back made the metal and crystal gleam. Luke didn't doubt Mara's answer, not really. And he didn't doubt his choice, though he knew there were those who would question it. If anyone would help him see what was best for the Empire, it was her.

She'd understand as well that almost nothing about their wedding could be truly their choice. An Emperor's wedding was not a mere formality and had nothing to it of romance; it was a public spectacle. People had to feel a part of it, even if it was just a facade – mere public relations, not reality.

But after – that could be for them, at least a little. It would, he thought, smiling a little to himself at the memory, be like the old days, when they had to sneak to spend time together. He was his father's apprentice and she something like the Emperor's; they were meant to be rivals, not friends, and definitely not lovers. They had taken a chance every time they were together, but it had been worth it.

Luke didn't spend much time wondering what might have been, but even if he had, right now, he didn't think he would change a thing. His father finding him at his uncle's; Vader and the Emperor's mutual destruction; his own coronation – they were all for the best, because they led him here.

He closed his fingers over the ring and stood, then turned to check his reflection in the window before he headed for the door. He'd lost enough time already. He'd spent weeks planning this, waiting for just the right time, but he'd finally realized the truth: there would never be a right time, so he might as well do it now. Luke had a proposal to make and wedding arrangements to follow. And after all that, he had a galaxy to rule, with Mara at his side. It wasn't something he'd ever imagined back when he'd been a small boy living on a Tatooine moisture farm and dreaming of something better, but this was his life and he preferred to live it rather than waste time thinking about it.

Why had he been hesitating? As he paused before Mara's door, Luke couldn't remember. There was nothing to fear - the future was what he made of it.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [her fight and fury is fiery (oh, but she loves)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4202493) by [leapylion3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leapylion3/pseuds/leapylion3)




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